Through Her Lives

Morgandy

Morgandy flipped off the computer screen, her eyes straining painfully against the contrast between the bright screen and the darkness of the library. Her search  had come to a halt. She hadn't found a name or an address, even the wonders of the internet drawing up a blank when she typed in his name.

Glancing at the grandfather clock she noticed it had been nearly two hours since she had sat down in the chair, not sure what she was about to face.  She hurriedly grabbed her bag and walked out of the library, having to run to catch the bus.

The bus ride was longer than it had been on the way there, but maybe that was because this time she didn't sleep. The paddocks of rolling hills slid by, her breath continually fogged up the window she sat by, resting her head against. With every movement of the bus the window vibrated. Her head rocked backwards and forwards hitting the window repeatedly.

By the time she was back at school, the outside of the school was deserted, the girls all seemingly had headed or were heading into London. One of the many wonderful aspects of Ashby Brymore Grammar was its distance from central London. It was a rural school, keeping a lot of the girls out of trouble.

It was another new experience for her, the halls were empty. Most of the teachers seemed to have left as well. She walked slowly, savouring the silence that flowed through the halls, following the soft curves of the school.

Laying across her four poster bed, she turned on her laptop, fully intending to continue her search. She had thought that a library would have greater resources but her trip had been wasted. Glancing out the window for a split second however, her attention was caught by the bell tower. Dale's face flashed through her mind and curiosity made her type in Dale, she came to a quick halt. Dale – Wikipedia, Dale of Norway, Dale Village, none of them were Dale, a person. She didn't even know his last name and it was a strange thing to suddenly want to google.

Frustrated she typed Morgandy Krosland into Google. Blue links appeared rapidly. 

Treasure's daughter moves to prestige all girls boarding school. 

Treasure's daughter throws glassy gaze at photographers. 

Treasure's daughter, Morgandy, in rehab?

Morgandy Krosland goes clubbing at 16 years old. 

The list was endless. Morgandy's face was open with surprise. She hadn't expected anything about her to appear.

Still frustrated and realising she still wasn't achieving anything she closed her laptop and paced around her bed. With new technology her search was supposed to be easier than before. Over in a day even, she could feel her body tightening and felt her chest constricting. 

Don't panic.

She got changed quickly into black shorts and a black tank top, sneakers shoved onto her feet and laced tightly, she was ready to run and she started running out of her bedroom down the halls down the main front steps of Ashby Brymore. 

Outside it was grey but warm enough for shorts and minimal wind. The track around the oval to the right of the main entrance was mud, and her sneakers quickly turned dark brown. She had run through worse conditions in her past.  Left foot after right, right foot after left, the expected order of her feet made her feel better, the sound of the mud squelching under her runners made her feel like she was back on track. On the right path to her destination, she could feel her breathing coming easier and her muscles start to relax, it had been months since she had ran at all and she hadn't realised how much stress a few laps could release from her body.

She had sweat pouring off her body but she kept going, unable to stop now.  Her breathing was short and shallow and her muscles had stopped aching from the lactic acid she was burning.  She hadn't bothered to keep track of how many laps she'd ran, where the start and finish of one was or how much longer she could go. She didn't know how long she had been running or even how fast, it didn't matter. All that matter was that she was running again and it felt good.